


in every heart, a galaxy

by RinAngel



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alien Yangyang, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Aliens, College Student Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Come on this journey with me, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Sci-fi, M/M, Near Death Experiences, This story either goes 0 or 100 there is literally no in between I'm sorry guys, ft Adorable Gay Roommates Sicheng & Dejun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24003028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinAngel/pseuds/RinAngel
Summary: Xuxi wakes up one morning to find a glowing blue boy with no clothes on camped out in his living room, and from then on, his life is destined to never be the same. Soon he's enthralled by Yangyang, who belongs with the stars but resonates with the Earth, who can't get enough of the little things that Xuxi has always taken for granted-- like love. Even if he knew how to send Yangyang back to space, could he even bear to?(Based on the prompt for Weishenfest Round 2: "Yangyang is an alien and Lucas has to try to get him home. He fails miserably.")
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Comments: 19
Kudos: 118
Collections: Weishen Fest: ANYTHING BUT HUMAN





	in every heart, a galaxy

Xuxi didn’t wake up well on his days off: without his alarm to push him on Sunday mornings, he would doze and doze, sometimes for hours, into the afternoon. Between classes and work, he didn’t get too many opportunities to sleep in, but on Sundays, he figured he owed it to himself. Like any other weekend morning, he was content to lay in bed until the sun, shining bright through his window, hit him square in the eye and drove him to close the curtains; then he lay in bed some more and checked all his social media while he gathered the energy to walk to the kitchen.

Except  _ this _ morning - this sunny May morning, on the cusp of summer - Xuxi found himself pulling the blankets over his nearly naked body and shivering. It was cold in his home. Frigid, actually. He sat up, pulling the blanket around his bare shoulders. He’d been sweating when he went to sleep, in nothing but his boxers, so there was no explanation for the goosebumps he now had.

Xuxi opened the window slightly, and hot air poured into his bedroom. That meant that the cold was coming from within the house somewhere—  _ the air conditioner, _ he thought suddenly, feeling a pang of dread. To get this cold, it would have had to be running for quite some time at full blast. That would be an expensive malfunction when the electricity bill came, he was sure. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath as he pushed his bedroom door open and stared out into the living room.

There was an unfamiliar boy sitting in front of his air conditioner, and his skin was glowing. Xuxi rubbed his eyes hard with the palms of his hands -  _ holy shit, I’m dreaming. Or gone crazy. What on earth is this? _

“Uhh… hi?” Xuxi grogged out, not sure what else to say.  _ Excuse me, but what  _ are _ you? _

His housemates were playing a joke on him maybe, that was the next plausible idea. But the boy wasn’t Sicheng or Dejun, that much was clear. He was smaller than any of them, slight and slender, with big eyes and full lips sitting naturally in a cat-like smirk. His hair was a lovely blue-black— and if his eyes weren’t fooling him, his skin was  _ glowing blue _ , like some sort of bioluminescent algae. The unnatural light pulsated and flowed and danced, as though whatever caused it was constantly moving inside of him.

“‘We come in peace.’ Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say?”

He had a nice sort of voice, though the sound had a shimmering, otherworldly quality. His Mandarin was crisply and perfectly pronounced, as though by a robot. His eyes were a brilliant indigo, with stripes and flecks of gold, absolutely mesmerizing. Xuxi realized, for the first time, that the man was wearing nothing but the throw blanket from the living room couch around his waist. Every additional detail confounded him more.

“What—  _ what are you? _ And what are you doing—” Xuxi shivered, suddenly conscious of being in nothing but his boxers, and stepped back into his room to grab the robe hanging by his closet. It was still refrigerator-cold everywhere in the house, and he could see that the AC unit behind the creature was turned onto its highest setting.

“I suppose, to you, I am an alien,” the boy mused, smirking that lovely, feline smile. “But among our own people, we call ourselves the Enlightened Ones.” He chuckled, the sound melodic. “Are you one of the humans that think you're alone in the universe?"

_ There's a glowing, blue, naked alien in my living room. _ Xuxi simply wasn't sure what to do with this information. Of  _ course _ he believed in aliens— but he wasn't curious enough to want to become a test subject for one. Certainly, if the being meant him harm, he would have attacked more quickly? Xuxi was immediately conscious of his knees shaking, though in cold or anxiety, it was hard to tell.

"Can we— turn down the AC? It's really cold in here. Plus, y'know, my roommates and I pay for that?"

“Pay? What do you mean?” The boy pouted,  _ actually pouted. _ It was the most human thing he could imagine. Xuxi instantly started to laugh, though he tried to swallow it, hoping not to offend his guest.

“Money. We pay money for that cold air. Do aliens have money?”

“You even need money for cold air? Money really  _ is _ at the heart of everything for your society.” He spoke with awe, as though he couldn’t imagine what he was talking about. “No. My race works together as one. Everything is shared freely.” Obediently, however, he turned to hit the “off” button on the AC, and the fan inside immediately quieted. “I have so many questions. We know so little of your planet. Never did I think I might meet a human face to face— I mean, a human I didn't plan on dissecting.”

What the fuck. What the  _ absolute _ fuck. The boy—  _ the alien _ — was standing there and looking at him so earnestly, with his lovely, glowing purple eyes, body almost completely on display—

From down the hall, Xuxi heard Dejun shout out of nowhere: “Why is it so  _ goddamn _ cold in here?”

“Fuck. Come with me  _ now _ ,” Xuxi quickly grabbed the alien’s arm without thinking. Despite the chill in the air around him, his skin was feverishly hot to the touch. He didn’t make a fuss as he was dragged on back to Xuxi’s room, and Xuxi called out, “The AC went crazy! Don’t worry, I turned it off!”

“Your planet is a little warmer than I’m used to. I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I suppose things work differently here,” he added timidly, with something like remorse in his voice, though Xuxi barely heard him. Looking at him more closely was even more mesmerizing— his light was bright enough to dance on his bedroom walls. He had long eyelashes. Freckles like specks of glitter.  _ Abs. _ How the fuck? He seemed just as intent to study Xuxi up close, examining his eyes with great interest. Even when their noses nearly bumped, both of them were too enthralled to pull back. “What is your name?” He asked suddenly, a question Xuxi wished he’d thought to ask. “I believe mine would be difficult to pronounce with this human physiology… Yangyang is a good approximation. You may call me that.”

_ This isn’t his real form, then? I wonder what he really looks like. _ He swallowed nervously. “My name’s Huang Xuxi. And I… I can’t believe you’re real.” He touched Yangyang again with a trembling hand, his face this time; his skin was impossibly smooth, and when his skin was touched by Xuxi's, it seemed to pick up sparks of his energy, manifesting as dashes of pink in his brilliant glow. Everything about him was mesmerizing. “I have so many questions, too. I’ll answer yours if you answer mine. It’s just… you’re a little… flashy. I don’t know how my housemates will react if they see you.”

Yangyang frowned, looking down at his nearly-naked body as though he’d only just noticed that he was giving off light. “That’s the energy of the stars inside me. It keeps me alive.”

_ The energy of the stars. _ This guy sounded crazy, and Xuxi  _ felt  _ crazy for entertaining the idea, but then he took Yangyang’s hand again, hot to the touch and dancing with glitter beneath the surface. His very being seemed to  _ crackle _ with energy. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. You’re really beautiful— I mean, the  _ light _ is really beautiful.”  _ Great going, Xuxi. _ He could always count on himself to say the most embarrassing thing possible.

“I’m really beautiful?” Yangyang repeated, meeting Xuxi’s eyes again. If the statement made him feel any certain way, it didn’t show in his expression, and Xuxi understood exactly why as Yangyang continued on: “I guess that’s a good question to start with. Every Earth language has this word,  _ beautiful _ — the night sky is beautiful, a woman is beautiful, paint smeared on a paper is beautiful. The energy of the stars in my body is beautiful. What characteristic do these things all share?”

Xuxi blinked. It was hard to interpret just what Yangyang’s question was. “I’m sorry— are you asking me what beautiful means?”

“Yes. Describe beauty to me.”

“Beauty is… well, I suppose it’s anything that makes you want to look at it. Something that pleases your senses.” Xuxi smiled sheepishly. He certainly wasn’t equipped to teach language— hell, Mandarin wasn’t even his mother tongue. But the look of enthrallment on Yangyang’s face, of dawning understanding, made him confident enough to continue. “Everyone has a different idea of what is beautiful, I suppose. I think that rainstorms are beautiful, but lots of people think they’re gloomy.”

“A word that means different things to different people?” Yangyang’s brows knitted together, perplexed. “That doesn’t make sense. How do you know precisely what a person is talking about?”

“You don’t have an equivalent of ‘beauty’ in your language?” Xuxi prompted, intrigued. Yangyang only shook his head.

“Humans are inefficient in so many ways.” His cat-like smirk came back all at once, and Xuxi found himself grinning in response before he realized it. “I have so much to learn. Tell me everything while I’m here, okay?”

“How long will you be here? Are you only here to study human culture?” Xuxi countered with a question of his own, his curiosity itching.

“I’ll be here until I’m not here anymore,” Yangyang said simply. Xuxi didn’t have time to press, it seemed, because Yangyang’s attention had moved on. He’d noticed the stack of textbooks on Xuxi’s desk and turned to pick one up, flipping through it with the utmost care, as though the pages might crumble between his fingertips. “You have so many books! How  _ archaic. _ I’ve always wanted to see them for myself, but human artifacts rarely make it to us in one piece.”

“You really like it? It’s a music theory textbook. Nothing interesting in there, even for me.” Xuxi chuckled at his own lame little joke, and Yangyang set the book down to shuffle through some of the other selections. The alien was so enthralled in looking at the pages, and Xuxi was so riveted in waiting for Yangyang’s next question, that it took an extra second for them both to notice that the blanket around Yangyang’s waist had fallen to the ground.

_ Even his ass is cute. _ The realization made Xuxi’s face burn, and he whipped around to open his closet. “Let me get you something to wear,” he offered quickly, feeling flustered. Yangyang was smaller than him, but he'd just have to find a way to make it work. “Then I’ll figure out how to introduce you to my housemates. I— I  _ definitely  _ can’t introduce you without any clothes on.”

Yangyang laughed. Once again, the sound was pure music, and it gave Xuxi a pleasurable shiver down his spine. “Humans are funny creatures,” he remarked simply, wrapping the blanket back around himself without urgency and getting shamelessly comfortable on the end of Xuxi’s bed to read.

//

They were called the Enlightened Ones, and they had been around for millions of years, longer than any human or caveman. Of course, they’d started out just the same as all forms of Earth life, just a spray of residual carbon material smeared on an asteroid, but their low-oxygen environment significantly changed the way they would evolve. (Xuxi didn’t understand the specifics - hell, he was a dancer, not a biologist.)

“We have done an impeccable job of keeping our own history,” he explained sagely, perched on the living room recliner and looking even smaller than he truly was in Xuxi’s oversized Red Velvet t-shirt and a pair of baggy jeans, rolled up a million times. Sicheng and Dejun’s jaws had both dropped upon seeing him, and Xuxi had wanted to chime in,  _ At least he’s not naked! _ “We have had electricity for thousands of years, and our computers are well ahead of all the technology I’ve seen since landing. Even so, we’ve been watching you with interest— evaluating all the ways in which your path has diverged from ours. It’s so fascinating.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dejun asked bluntly, casting another glance over at Xuxi. A glance that asked,  _ what the fuck.  _ Xuxi could hardly blame him: it was scarcely noon, they were both still in their pajamas, and suddenly they were being called to the weirdest house meeting that had ever been held.

“Our two species couldn’t be more different. Man is caught up with trivial things like money and land and war, but the Enlightened Ones are past such things. We work together. We share all we have. Our society has no crime or violence. Our evolution has allowed us to mine our sustenance from stars, so we have no need for agriculture, and many of us have dedicated our lives to the most noble cause of all: the pursuit of all worldly knowledge. My mental capabilities easily exceed any human’s, because my brain is much larger. It’s how I’m able to achieve a human form.” Yangyang smiled, not seeming to register the two pair of wide, round eyes trained on his every move. “That’s not to disrespect your culture at all. On the contrary, I’ve always been incredibly interested in life on Earth. I want to learn as much as I can while I’m here.”

Sicheng and Dejun looked at each other, now, like they were trying to silently decide what to do between themselves. It was Sicheng who spoke up first, unsurprisingly: “I don’t know if I believe that you’re an alien. I mean… I gotta admit, the glowing is pretty impressive, but— what do you mean by  _ achieve human form? _ Show us what you actually look like.”

Yangyang’s smile faltered at once, seeming almost shepish, and Xuxi felt a stab of pity when he saw the alien’s fingers curl nervously into the cushion he sat on. “It might make you uneasy, if I were to do that,” he said softly, blinking his round purple eyes in a way that exuded innocence. Maybe it was all a trick, but Xuxi couldn’t help but buy it, even if his housemates didn’t. “But I’ll try to satisfy your curiosity. At least a little.”

He extended a blue hand, palm up— despite everyone’s reservations, the three of them all leaned in to get a better look, safe or not. Yangyang’s hand was quite small by human standards, with short fingers and well groomed nails. But before their eyes, things began to change: quickly and fluidly, like it was nothing, his fingers had extended to at least three times their normal length, becoming thin and bony like the legs of a spider, with small but pointed claws. Instantly and in unison, the three of then sprang back in alarm. Xuxi heard himself cry out— but then he blinked, and the next thing he knew, Yangyang was running a perfectly human hand nervously through his own hair.

“I can do other things, too. My powers are developing all the time,” he continued on quietly, and Xuxi couldn’t tell if he was imagining the hesitancy in the alien’s words. It was enough to make Xuxi want to (foolishly) speak up and reassure him, but before he could come up with the words, Yangyang looked down at the water on the coffee table in front of Sicheng, and a moment later, it zipped speedily across the wood surface as if dragged by a magnet beneath. It leaped up from the table, directly into Yangyang’s hand, and he wrapped his fingers easily around the cup.

Dejun had still been silent thus far, but his eyes finally turned Xuxi’s way when Yangyang reached across the table to give the drink back to Sicheng. “Are you kidding?” he asked, with the slightest quiver to his voice. “You tell us you want a house meeting, and I think you want to bitch about the cleaning schedule or the grocery bills— but instead, you want to tell us that you  _ found _ an  _ alien _ ?”

“Speaking technically,  _ I  _ found  _ him _ ,” Yangyang piped up, the corners of his lips twitching up again. Xuxi had the feeling that Yangyang couldn’t keep things to himself very easily. “I landed in the ocean, at approximately 3:22 in the morning and was washed ashore in the northern part of the city. I disguised myself and determined the local language, but I still scared a group of inebriated young women outside on the sidewalk when I asked for help. Regretfully, I did not come here with Earth clothing.” His blue cheeks went purple, and for a second, Xuxi went back to forgetting to be scared. “I began looking for an unlocked door, where I might find safety until morning, and that’s how I came upon this place. I was fortunate when Xuxi agreed to be my guide while I stay on Earth!”

“You’re going to be his  _ guide? _ ” Dejun scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Xuxi— you  _ can’t _ be serious about this!”

“You should remember to lock the door when you come home,” Sicheng scolded softly, an odd sort of agreement that would have made Xuxi laugh any other time.

“You should call the police! Or— I don’t know, get in touch with some scientists!” Dejun went on, glancing back Yangyang’s way with knitted brows. “We can’t harbor an alien here! What if he’s dangerous?”

Yangyang opened his mouth as if to speak, but Xuxi cut him off with a desperate glance. He needed a moment to gather his thoughts into words, because— well, he’d had a couple hours to think on it, and no matter how he approached the issue, he came to the same conclusion.  _ I want him here. _ “If I surrender him to someone— they’ll keep him like a prisoner and do experiments on him and shit. It’s not his fault he crashed here. That’s not fair. He’s been here all morning and he hasn’t hurt anyone. He’s just on Earth to study our culture, so… why don’t we let him? We’ll give him the information he needs, and he’ll be on his way once he has it.”

“I  _ am _ dangerous, but I’m also non-violent,” Yangyang pointed out, in something oddly similar to reassurance. “I could have killed you quite easily in your sleep, if that had been my goal.”

“That kind of makes sense,” Sicheng was the first one to speak after a long moment of silence, looking at Xuxi and Dejun in turn. “I don’t want to put an innocent person in harm’s way. He counts as a person, doesn’t he? It’s not  _ his _ fault he’s scary.”

“Do you really think the police would hurt him?” Dejun asked after a second, gaze fixed on Yangyang across the living room. His light danced dazzlingly on the wall behind him, ambivalent to the tension in the air.

“The police do  _ unspeakable _ things to our fellow humans,” Xuxi answered softly. “Why  _ wouldn’t _ they hurt him? Look, as much as we might not like what he has to say— he’s right about  _ everything _ . Humans fight over everything. We’re scared of things that are different from us. If we want to prove him wrong, why don’t we  _ actually _ prove him wrong and do something selfless?”

Xuxi’s argument was pulled completely out of his ass, which made him all the more surprised when Dejun conceded, with nothing more than a stern warning to  _ actually lock the door at night from now on _ . Sicheng, on the other hand, announced his intentions to make tea, and asked if anyone else wanted some as he stood up.

“Tea? I’ve seen plenty of mentions of tea in Earth media, but I’m truthfully not sure what it is.”

“Oh, come with me! Xuxi, he’s going to be so fun to teach! He’s like a baby!” Sicheng cooed, taking Yangyang’s hand without even flinching. The inhuman warmth of his skin didn’t seem to faze him, and Xuxi couldn’t keep from grinning as he watched Yangyang awkwardly hurry behind.

As far as “house meetings” went, that really hadn’t been a bad one.

//

Xuxi had never felt like they were alone in the universe. Quite the contrary: he was the child who could never get enough sci-fi movies or conspiracy theories. His parents mostly rolled their eyes at his antics, but  _ he _ had always believed. He almost wanted to snap a picture of Yangyang to send their way; his eerie blue light danced on the white kitchen walls, unfaltering, as he bit into a strawberry poached from the bowl of fruit Xuxi was preparing for dessert. Pink juice trickled down his chin, and Xuxi had to look away to keep from laughing. Yangyang had his surprisingly human moments.

“Only Earthlings would come up with something as extravagant as this,” Yangyang remarked, nodding to the radio on the counter. It was playing a classical station, some kind of Mozart - Sicheng would know, he figured, he was the one who was always playing it in the name of concentration. “Just— irrelevant noises. For the sake of…”

“Beauty,” Xuxi supplied, rinsing the knife and washing his hands. “All three of us are studying music. I’m a dancer. Dejun is a singer. Sicheng does both, plus he can play the piano like you wouldn’t believe— he makes music just like this.” He indicated the radio, adding in reply to Yangyang’s curious stare, “We’ll show you sometime. I mean, that might be all we can show you. I’m really sorry that I couldn’t answer any of your big questions— but I don’t know if most humans could. I guess we’re not really as self-aware as you are. I’ll text Dejun, see if he’ll stop by the library on his way home from work and pick up some philosophy books for you.”

Xuxi hadn’t realized how little he thought about the world around him, until he heard Yangyang’s rambling list of questions.  _ What are the optimum conditions for human happiness? What determines a human’s value to society? What are the conditions that necessitate wartime?  _ All of Xuxi’s answers were so wishy-washy ( _ “It depends”  _ and  _ “I don’t know” _ , alternating forever) that it made him feel a little bit less useful than he once had.

“Books are good. It’s a shame you don’t have more of them,” Yangyang admitted, selecting a peeled lychee from the bowl next. “However, I’m beginning to think I was approaching this the wrong way. Maybe the way to learn about humans is to live like a human. Enjoy what humans enjoy.” He peeled a careful segment of lychee away from the pit, popping it in his mouth, eyes fluttering closed and a quiet sound of pleasure escaping his throat. “I can’t believe how wonderful human food is.”

“What, stars aren’t tasty?” Xuxi asked, grinning a little. Yangyang had answered many of his questions without hesitation, and yet he didn’t volunteer much about his own life.  _ What do aliens enjoy? Do you live every day with nothing but these questions bouncing around your head? If you don’t have beauty, then what are the things that your people treasure? _

“Stars don’t have a taste. They’re just stars. They’re energy.” Yangyang replied, and as if to accentuate his point, the magnificent light inside of him shifted and glowed brighter for a moment. He had a wistful sort of tone to his voice, and he peered outside into the approaching dusk. In Shanghai, seeing the stars wasn’t a sure thing— and in that moment, Xuxi couldn’t make out a single one. “Hey, I know you said everyone has a different idea of beauty, but I want to know what things you think are beautiful. You could make a list. Then you can show them all to me before I have to leave.”

“Uh, I can try,” Xuxi offered, feeling a weak stab of pity as he added, “I haven’t figured out how I’m going to take you anywhere, but I’ll figure something out. I promise. How long are you going to be on Earth, by the way? You never did tell me.”

Yangyang didn’t look his way, didn’t speak, just leaned against the counter and stared out the window. It was just the same as when he had asked before, an obvious dodge. Maybe he himself didn’t know? The idea came to Xuxi all at once, and he wasn’t sure why that idea left him feeling so unsettled.

Several silent seconds ticked past. Rather than asking again, he opted instead to pass Yangyang a grape. “Try this one next. These are my favorite!”

“I feel spoiled. Now I know why humans are so obsessed with food!” Yangyang plucked the fruit delicately from Xuxi’s fingers with a grateful smile. He popped the fruit into his mouth without hesitation, and Xuxi found his gaze lingering on his lips as they swallowed up the green fruit— until the apartment door opened and Sicheng came through, kicking off his shoes like they were filled with hot coals.

Xuxi quirked a questioning eyebrow, and Sicheng grinned. “My show! Tonight’s the finale episode,” he explained breathlessly, hurrying across the kitchen to the living room without bothering to change out of his waiter’s uniform. “They kept me late at work and I’m missing it right now! I need to see who ends up together!”

“What’s he doing?” Yangyang questioned curiously, looking up to Xuxi with wide eyes.

Suddenly, Xuxi grinned. To the alien, it probably looked like Sicheng was headed somewhere urgent, when this couldn’t be further from the truth. “Sicheng is a drama addict. The TV that we watched the news on earlier? It broadcasts people acting out made-up stories sometimes, and people find them interesting enough to watch. Sometimes they’re funny, or sad, or touching. Sicheng loves romances—”

Before Xuxi could even finish his thought, Yangyang was standing in the living room doorway, watching Sicheng with an amusing curiosity. He’d even forgotten the bowl of fruit— his eyes were locked on whatever was happening on the screen, taking in everything.

“We sometimes intercept human signals such as these, but I’ve never seen them in such high quality,” Yangyang remarked, without even blinking.

“Well, do you want to go watch?”

“Really?” Yangyang’s eyes flashed to Xuxi for just a second, and Xuxi was absolutely taken aback by the adoration he found in that gaze. Shit, he was just imagining that, right? He  _ had _ to be. Yangyang hurried into the living room without another word, making himself comfortable on the floor in front of the couch, leaving Xuxi to trail behind with their abandoned snack. He’d share it with Sicheng, then.

Xuxi hadn’t been following this show - dramas weren’t really his thing - so he didn’t really know what was going on, aside from that the main girl loved the main guy but the main guy was betrothed to someone else. Xuxi wasn’t sure how readily Yangyang could comprehend that, but the alien didn’t ask any questions for a change, thoroughly engrossed by the story. In the end, when the man presented the woman with two plane tickets and told her that he would go anywhere in the world to be by her side, Yangyang spoke up at last: “Isn’t wealth the most important thing for humans? Why is he leaving his wealthy parents for this girl?”

“Because love is more important than  _ anything _ ,” Sicheng replied sagely, dabbing the tears from his eyes. “People do crazy, stupid things when they find the right person to do them with. I can’t wait to find the right person to make  _ me _ crazy, too.”

Xuxi grinned to himself, patting Sicheng’s back without too much judgment. Privately, he couldn’t help but agree. Passion brought out the strangest tendencies in people— but as for experiencing it himself, he’d never managed to. Girls told him all the time that he was beautiful, but he was never able to spot the type of beauty he was looking for in return.

//

Waking up on Monday was a very different feeling than waking up on Sunday. Xuxi’s alarm woke him up at 6:00 on the dot, and he groaned as he rubbed his eyes. He didn’t have any classes until 10, but he had made it a habit to get out of bed and jog, six days a week. The image his friends had of him was an easygoing goofball, but really, a professional dancer couldn’t afford to be anything but disciplined.

The sun was still hiding in the shadow of the city, the air likely cool; Xuxi dragged himself out of bed and found his favorite hoodie and some athletic pants, socks and sneakers and his headphones, and he was halfway down the hall before he suddenly remembered:  _ Yangyang. _ How could he forget? He peered into the living room on the way through, curious to see this glorious, terrifying being asleep on their sofa.

Yangyang was  _ not _ asleep— in fact, it didn’t seem that he’d moved from the night before, stationed on the floor in front of the television. Awash with the light from the screen in the dark room, his blue glow was far less noticeable.

_ “Yongzheng, are you listening to yourself? You sound crazy—” _

_ “What’s crazy about being in love with you? I know you can feel it too, every time we touch each other…” _

It took Xuxi a moment to realize what was happening: Yangyang was watching the drama on fast forward, able to process even their foreign language more quickly than any human could. And he’d been up all night,  _ all night _ — just absorbing human culture, Xuxi supposed, which had been his goal. His attention flickered back to the screen just in time to see the two  _ male _ actors kiss, with one of them pressed back against the wall.

“Uh… good morning.”

For the first time, Yangyang’s reaction wasn’t instantaneous. He turned slowly from the TV, as though waking up from a dream. “Good morning,” he responded somewhat slowly, rubbing his eyes. “Sicheng showed me how to watch the dramas he’s recorded. I’ve been watching them to familiarize myself with your customs.”

“I can see that.” Xuxi chuckled faintly, stepping behind him to grab the remote and turn the TV off. With the screen black, the room was suddenly much darker, and it became that much more clear: Yangyang’s light was not as bright as it had been the previous morning. He’d once glowed vibrantly, but after a day, it had mellowed to a gentle, unobtrusive glow that barely haloed around him. “You know, too much TV can strain your eyes. Doesn’t that human body of yours need sleep?”

“How could I sleep? I have so many questions.” Yangyang got to his feet surprisingly swiftly, eyes wide and round with curiosity. “Does every human enter into a courtship for mating and procreation?” His mouth turned into a little frown, comically serious. “What is the significance of kissing?”

Xuxi was losing time from his run, but he couldn’t resist the urge to stay and satisfy Yangyang’s curiosity— those beautiful violet eyes begged him to. Skipping  _ one _ day’s run wouldn’t hurt him, right? He would take the stairs instead of the elevator in the university building to make up for it, he promised himself. He led Yangyang to the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee and grabbing the cereal from the cupboard. “Okay, hold on, one question at a time! I’m still sleepy,” Xuxi stopped him, unable to keep from grinning. “Humans pair off into relationships for way more reasons than just having kids kids. It’s more about love— finding a person you want to be with for the rest of your life. Not every human does, but most people at least try. And kissing—” It was funny; Xuxi was usually shameless around his friends, but for some reason, talking about kissing with Yangyang made him blush. “Kissing is a way to show love between people who are in a relationship. Usually, you only kiss the person you’re dating.”

“Why, though?”

“Why do you only kiss the person you’re dating?”

“No, why  _ kissing? _ ” Yangyang’s tone bordered on impatience as he sat at the kitchen table, accepting the bowl of cereal and milk that Xuxi pushed over to him. He ate without hesitating (after all, he hadn’t tasted any Earth food he didn’t like), and the expression on his face showed that he was pleased with the sweet flavor. “Pressing your lips and tongues together doesn’t seem very healthy.”

Xuxi broke into a laugh, nearly spitting out the cereal in his mouth. Yangyang had a pretty good point. “Honestly? Humans have lots of nerve endings in their lips, so it feels really nice. I think that’s the reason,” he divulged, turning around to put the milk away. All the talk about kissing was drawing his eyes to Yangyang’s mouth, and for his own sanity, he had to stop looking. “Do you really not pair off into relationships, then? How does it work in your culture?”

“We selectively mate in order to ensure the success of our offspring,” Yangyang replied between bites of his breakfast. “Not everyone reproduces, only those with the most desirable traits.”

“Have you ever?” Xuxi blurted the question out without thinking about it, without really thinking about the potential rudeness until it was too late. His cheeks instantly flared, and he quickly amended, “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that if it’s weird.”

Yangyang, on the other hand, wasn’t flustered in the least. “I haven’t. Have you?”

“N… No.”

“Back home, I have acquaintances and colleagues,” Yangyang continued on thoughtfully; he paused to take a sip of coffee, which made him wrinkle his nose and push the mug away. “People I work with and people I live in proximity to. But things like  _ love _ are unheard of. Wanting to spend your whole life with a person, just because you inexplicably  _ desire _ them? I like the way your kind thinks when it comes to matters of the heart.” He smiled, eyes glinting. “I’d like to go on a date with you, Xuxi. I feel very positively towards you. I think I would enjoy myself. I saw lots of dates in TV dramas, but I don’t think it could compare to experiencing it.”

Xuxi froze, nearly dropping his spoon back into his bowl. “A date…?” It was weird, because he was talking to an  _ alien _ , but he could actually see the two of them on a date. In a restaurant, or at the movies, or holding hands while shopping— Yangyang bombarding him with questions the whole time, no doubt. “Where would you want to go on a date?” he asked, keeping his face carefully neutral despite the pleasant shiver he felt when he repeated the word.

Yangyang smiled softly, and answered without pause: “Stargazing.”

Xuxi stopped eating, stopped talking, maybe even stopped breathing for a second as he looked into Yangyang’s eyes. That sounded perfect. A quiet, romantic spot, just them and the stars. Maybe they’d kiss beneath them. Was it ethical to kiss an alien in the name of alien science? Would Yangyang even  _ want _ to kiss him? “Stargazing, yeah,” he answered as soon as he remembered that Yangyang was probably expecting words. “That sounds fun! We’ll go the next time the sky is clear.” Xuxi had drained his coffee cup by the time he noticed Yangyang’s eyes drooping, and he chuckled softly. “Hey, you should sleep now. I’ll give you my bed, so you can have some privacy, okay?”

Before he headed off to class, Xuxi brought Yangyang to his room and watched him get settled amongst all the pillows and blankets. The alien looked relaxed and at ease; he even buried his face in Xuxi’s pillow and commented that it smelled like him, that he liked it. Xuxi did his best not to let it affect him too much, and tried to keep from smiling throughout the day, when his brain would go back to the thought of the galaxy’s cutest boy curled up in his bed.

//

Xuxi was home from classes around dinnertime, even more eager than usual to take the bus ride home. He brought with him some library books (mostly human history, which Yangyang found endlessly fascinating), and a pizza that they inhaled in record time. Yangyang ate just as voraciously as Xuxi did, which only made him admire Yangyang more, nonsensical as it was.

Later that night, while Yangyang was poring over diagrams of the Egyptian pyramids and listening to the music that Dejun and Sicheng were watching in the background, Xuxi approached him with butterflies in his stomach. As nonchalantly as he could, he made his proposal: “Seems like the sky is clear tonight. I know a good spot, if you really wanted to go— stargazing.”

Yangyang glanced up from his book in surprise, but the amusement in his eyes was obvious when he heard Xuxi stumble.  _ If you really wanted to go on a date with me _ , that’s what he’d nearly said, and it was preposterous to think about going on a  _ date _ with an  _ alien _ but it made Xuxi’s hands sweat and his eyes dart to anywhere but Yangyang’s gaze.

“Of course I do! Of course!” Yangyang chirped, sounding more undeniably happy than Xuxi had ever heard as he leaped off the couch to his feet. “Lead the way! Where are we going, anyway?”

“Hold on, hold on. We need to get a few things first,” Xuxi instructed, grabbing the throw blanket off the back of the couch and slinging it over his shoulder to carry. To Yangyang, he bestowed the job of fetching four beers from the fridge and following Xuxi out of the apartment and down to the elevator. Their building was twenty-five storeys tall, and they were going all the way up:  _ past _ twenty-five, pressing the button labeled “R”.

The elevator spit them out in a dark maintenance room, with nothing but a square window in its metal door. Xuxi opened the door and stepped aside, letting Yangyang be the first to step out onto the moonlit rooftop.

“Wow…” Yangyang tilted his head back to look up at the sky, the awe plain on his face. And the sky  _ was _ beautiful, but that wasn’t what Xuxi found his eyes drawn to; he was looking at Yangyang himself, standing in the dimly lit nighttime, looking washed out and pale with his glow fading. Beneath his natural glow, his skin was white like a porcelain doll, and it glimmered brilliantly under the moonlight.

“Space is so beautiful from Earth,” Yangyang spoke up softly, eyes falling on Xuxi tentatively, as though looking for reassurance that he had used the word correctly. Xuxi had to look away, busying himself with spreading the blanket on the ground at their feet. He sat first, and Yangyang followed— his body, vaguely warm, just centimeters from Xuxi’s. “These are soda cans, yes? Dejun taught me how to open one earlier today—” He picked one of the cold beers from the lineup and popped it open before Xuxi could correct him, taking a healthy swig. The surprise was plain on his face, like with the coffee; still, Yangyang swallowed, his cheeks taking on the faintest,  _ faintest _ tinge of violet.

“Space seems like it would be beautiful up close, too. When I was a little kid, I used to fantasize about being an astronaut and flying from star to star.”

“Stars are nothing special up close. Just bright,” Yangyang murmured, eyes turning back upwards. The starlight seemed to hit them differently than the lamps or the TV screen inside, and Xuxi’s heart throbbed with desire.  _ Is it just the novelty of him being so different? Is it how cute his face is? Or does this feeling actually mean something? _ Xuxi cracked a beer himself; a few quick swallows, enough to take the edge off his nerves.

“Yangyang?”

“Yes, Xuxi?” (Xuxi couldn’t help but love the way the alien said his name.)

“I think… your glow is beginning to fade.”

Yangyang looked down at his hand, his right fingers wrapped around the beer can, his left resting on Xuxi’s knee. “I know it is. It’s due to lack of proper feeding. I’m not sure how much, if at all, human food is able to sustain me. Normally, I’m nourished by star energy— or rather, the energy of the fusion reaction between hydrogen and helium. Human food tastes delicious to me, but I don’t think it gives me what I need.”

Yangyang spoke so matter-of-factly, like he were the professor of some sort of science lecture. His words immediately gave Lucas a stomach ache. “You, uh… you should be going back at some point soon, then? Not that I don’t like having you. You’re great. But… how long can you go without feeding on stars?” He was sure he didn’t imagine it, the way the question made Yangyang stiffen, but Xuxi didn’t back down. He  _ had _ to know. “Where is your ship, anyway? Where did you land?”

Yangyang took a long time to answer— all the while, his eyes stuck on the stars, like they were speaking to him and he was listening intently. The moment was so tense with anticipation of something beautiful that Xuxi didn’t dare break it. Finally, he looked down at his hands again, and then at Xuxi, his eyes lovely and pained all at once. “That’s so complicated,” he said at last, shaking his head slowly. His beer can crinkled between his fingers as he fidgeted with it. “Xuxi, aren’t dates supposed to be fun? I want to talk about fun things.”

From their first conversation, Yangyang’s speech was too even, too dictionary-perfect to be natural; now, for the first time, he detected a palpable dose of  _ brattiness _ that almost knocked him over laughing. He was learning so much, so fast, and really, Xuxi thought that Sicheng’s dramas had probably made the most difference. “I know you do, and I don’t blame you, but— I’m worried about you, that’s all. I don’t want something to happen to you here because we weren’t careful.” Feeling uncharacteristically bold (God, Xuxi hadn’t been on a date with a guy in  _ ages _ ), he wrapped his arm affectionately around Yangyang’s waist and pulled him closer. “You feel a little cold, too…”

Yangyang set his beer can down - empty, from the sounds of it - and Xuxi thought for the first time that he should have explained to Yangyang how alcohol worked. He opened his mouth, about to warn him not to drink anymore (did alcohol even affect him?) when suddenly, he felt like something was nudging him forward. No,  _ pulling  _ him forward. No— no, he realized when he saw the spark of satisfaction in Yangyang’s eyes,  _ magicking _ him forward. “ _ You _ feel a little warm,” Yangyang replied when they were nose to nose, a smirk playing on his lips, and then the next thing Xuxi knew, they were kissing. Yangyang, who hadn’t known what kissing  _ was _ that morning, was giving Xuxi his first kiss as though it were nothing. Crazier still, he was actually sort of a  _ good kisser _ — maybe a little too forward, with the way he slipped his tongue eagerly into Xuxi’s mouth a few seconds in, but  _ too much _ enthusiasm was probably better than  _ not enough. _

It was Yangyang who pulled back a moment later; the glow seemed to have reignited in his cheeks, pulsating with the rhythm of a racing heart.  _ He’s blushing because of me _ . The thought made Xuxi grin like crazy, and he was about to remark on it when Yangyang spoke up: “I want to talk about something else,” he requested again, almost a plea. “Let’s make this like a real date. Let’s talk about things that humans talk about when they’re in love.” He batted his eyelashes playfully and touched Xuxi’s arm, offering almost as an example: “I can see the stars in your eyes. You look so handsome.”

Xuxi had to laugh, kissing Yangyang on his impossibly soft cheek. “Thanks. You look amazing, too. You look better in that shirt than Dejun does, if I’m being honest.” (Yellow made the gold in Yangyang’s eyes pop in the most mesmerizing way.) Sipping his beer again to try and seem casual, he steered the conversation back to somewhere more positive, more first-date-worthy: “I was thinking about taking a tape recorder to my classes with me tomorrow. That way you can hear some of the lectures. I felt really bad, leaving you here by yourself all day! You know, since I kind of feel responsible for you and all…”

“I would love that! I envy you, being able to go to a human university. It looks fun, in all the TV shows.” Yangyang was less interested in drinking, his attention fully invested in Xuxi, his piercing eyes giving him chills. “Are you going to be a dancer like the ones Sicheng showed me? A K-pop star?”

Xuxi sighed. In trying to make Yangyang more comfortable, he’d led him to opening his own can of worms. “Honestly? I don’t even know if I’m going to keep studying dance next semester,” Xuxi admitted, shrugging and letting his gaze drift to the stars again. “I’ve been dancing since I was young, taking part in competitions and all. It was kind of expected that I go on to study dance, but I really don’t know if I want to study anything at all. University isn’t making me happy.”

Yangyang’s hand rested on his thigh again, a welcome distraction. “What would make you happy?” he asked quietly.

“I’m not sure.” Admitting that to another soul was hard - it made him feel pathetic, not to mention foolish. He was a good dancer, everyone said so, and the best thing would probably be to keep his nose to the grindstone. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was  _ something _ else in store for him, something that would really give his heart a reason to beat.

“Human lifespans are actually quite long, compared to most other things on Earth, or even my own species. You can expect to live for at least another fifty years,” Yangyang replied sagely. “You have time to change your mind. You have time to try and fail. Not all the time in the world, of course… but I don’t think you need to rush.”

“Do you know what you want to do?” Xuxi asked, out of curiosity. “Are you going to be a researcher for the rest of your life?”

“It is what comes naturally to us. Gathering and organizing information. It’s a natural compulsion,” Yangyang answered, cryptic as always, his eyes unreadable. “But since I’m researching my favorite things, I don’t mind.” Xuxi was strangely flattered by this, on behalf of his entire species; he opened his mouth and was about to say so, when Yangyang suddenly nudged him with his elbow and pointed back up at the stars. “Look! Do you see that? I think it’s an asteroid.”

Xuxi looked back up to the stars quickly, feeling his heart soar right alongside the shooting star that streaked across the sky. Yangyang was probably right, it was more likely an asteroid or a meteor or some random piece of space debris— even so, he couldn’t keep from speaking aloud: “Make a wish. Humans consider shooting stars to be good fortune.”

“Okay!” It  _ had _ to be nothing but silly superstition in Yangyang’s eyes, but he seemed to take the suggestion to heart. “I wish to stay with you for as long as possible. Like that?”

_ So precious _ . Xuxi couldn’t keep from grinning. “Close your eyes and really focus on it,” he instructed softly. “Picture it in your mind. They say that’s the best way.” Of course, Yangyang obeyed without a moment’s hesitation, eyes fluttering closed, and Xuxi seized the opportunity— he leaned in on his own this time, kissing first his top lip and then his bottom, savoring the moment and building anticipation before his tongue begged Yangyang’s lips to part. His little gasp, the absolute trust with which he yielded and followed Xuxi’s lead, the fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, it was all nearly enough to convince him that wishing on a star had some higher purpose after all.

//

The next morning, Xuxi woke up at 6 AM. Pulled on his hoodie, half-asleep. Ran. Ran until his chest burned and his lungs heaved and his mind was clear. Yangyang’s lips still clung to his mind, like the remnants of a naughty dream; it had been fun, but he had to keep himself grounded, to remember that Yangyang’s time with him was limited.

_ He’s starving. He needs to go home. I need to find a way to make him. _

When he arrived back at the apartment building, drenched in sweat and catching his breath, Dejun met him at the door with a look on his face that couldn’t mean anything good. He pursed his lips, stopping Xuxi with a little tug on his arm. “Your alien isn’t looking well this morning,” he whispered. “He’s in the kitchen— he’s lost all his color. I tried to ask him about it like five times, but he insists that he’s fine.”

Xuxi winced. By the time they’d made it inside the night before, lips swollen and chapped from kissing, Dejun and Sicheng were long asleep. Yangyang’s glow had been barely-there, like a flashlight that was very nearly out of batteries. “It’s because he needs to go home and feed,” Xuxi answered softly, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face. “I’ve got to talk to him today. Don’t worry about it.” Really, he didn’t want Dejun to ask questions, or try to help; for some reason, it felt like this was his problem and his alone. Forgetting about his much-needed shower for a moment, he took off his shoes at the door and made his way past Dejun to stand in the kitchen doorway.

He hadn’t been exaggerating. Yangyang stood by the coffee maker in nothing but Dejun’s borrowed pajamas, watching and waiting while it brewed— the black flannel fabric made his alabaster skin all the more shocking to behold. No more pulses of light, hints of glow. He didn’t even have a blemish to speak of, just a sickly paleness that spread over every centimeter of him. His eyes, when they lifted and met Xuxi’s, were bright and pale violet, without any of the flecks of gold that had once drawn him in.

If Yangyang was feeling unwell, he didn’t show it, though— he was steady as he stepped forward and threw his arms around Xuxi in a tight hug. “There you are! I’m making coffee for you. Should we have breakfast? I’m craving something sweet.” He pressed his nose against Xuxi’s neck. “Hm. You smell good.”

Xuxi could still feel Dejun’s eyes on his back, and his entire body felt hot. Yangyang’s inability to keep his mouth shut for even a  _ second _ was going to make his roommates ask questions— and it wasn’t that he was  _ ashamed _ that he’d made out with Yangyang on the rooftop in the middle of the night, but— 

“Xuxi needs to shower. But I’ll help you cook something, if you want,” Dejun spoke up after a second, saving him. “How about crepes? WIth bananas and chocolate?”

“Yes,  _ please _ .” Xuxi grinned, and when Dejun turned to rummage through the cupboards for his extra-large crepe pan, he chanced a kiss on Yangyang’s pale cheek. A blip of pink appeared for a moment, vaguely shaped like Xuxi’s lips, but his skin was inexplicably cool to the touch. “I’ll be right back.”

The run had cleared his mind, but then Yangyang had gone and jumbled it all again, and even a full ten minutes under the hot shower didn’t do anything to improve his mental state. He didn’t want to worry, but he cared too much about Yangyang  _ not _ to. That, in and of itself, was scary.

Xuxi  _ didn’t _ date. He was too busy. Too focused. Sometimes Sicheng, with his endless string of boyfriends and his perpetually broken heart, would joke that nobody in Shanghai, no, nobody on  _ Earth  _ would be enough to draw Xuxi’s eye.  _ Well, maybe he was fucking right. _ Yangyang was his first kiss since  _ high school _ , and just like in high school, he found himself replaying moments from their night over and over again, blushing and licking his lips. He felt somehow more  _ alive _ than he had the day before.

When he emerged, dressed and feeling determined, the aroma of food had filled the entire apartment. It had even dragged Sicheng out of bed, uncharacteristically early, to sit at the kitchen table and entertain Yangyang’s Earth questions while he cut into the first of the crepes.

“But what do the sports  _ mean? _ ”

“I’m  _ pretty  _ sure they’re supposed to be fun.”

“Yangyang, get the plate ready! You’re supposed to be helping!” Dejun called, with thinly veiled amusement.

“Oops! Sorry!”

(How in the world did it feel so  _ natural? _ It was like Yangyang had been there since move-in day.)

Yangyang flashed Xuxi a smile, but did his prep work diligently— rolling the crepe around a filling of chopped bananas and walnuts, then topping the whole thing with whipped cream and indulgent chocolate syrup. “This one is for Xuxi,” he announced, setting it on the table and beckoning him to sit. The pride was plain on his face, and it made Xuxi smile.

“Come sit and share it with me? I want to tell you something,” Xuxi invited. Yangyang sat down at last, and Xuxi went on, “I thought that maybe you’d want to see the sights in Shanghai for yourself. Some human museums. The shopping district. I think you’d blend in with some sunglasses?”

Yangyang’s eyes widened. “But don’t you have class?”

“I— I can miss them. It’s just once…” Xuxi smiled, even as the bittersweet thought left his lips: “While we can?”

“You know the answer is yes!” Yangyang was grinning from ear to ear as he answered. His eyes were still lively, behind the curtain of black hair that nearly obscured them, and they still drew Xuxi in and made him want to get lost in them. “Should we plan an itinerary? I want to see everything we can. I want to see for  _ real _ how humans live.”

“Don’t worry about anything! I know  _ exactly  _ where to take you,” Xuxi promised, cutting off the first bite of the crepe and offering it to Yangyang, dripping with chocolate sauce. “You try first, since you made it.”

“I know it’s good. I ate most of the whipped cream before we started.” Yangyang confessed with a devilish grin, accepting the bite anyway.

It wasn’t a blue glow or gold-kissed eyes that had made Xuxi start to fall, was it? No, it was nothing but this life, this energy, this  _ smile _ that made his heart light up in a way nobody else did. Yangyang seemed perfectly fine, Xuxi tried to assure himself, but when Yangyang took his hand under the table, his fingers were as  _ cold _ as porcelain, too, and that made Xuxi uneasy. Later, he’d have to talk to him.

In his pocket, his phone suddenly sprung to life.

//

**_“Roommates” Groupchat_ **

_ Sicheng: OH MY GOD WHAT AM I LOOKING AT _ _  
_ _ Sicheng: look at your phone you idiot look at your phone _ _  
_ _ Dejun: somehow it seems fitting that xuxi is into aliens _ _  
_ _ Dejun: it explains so much _ _  
_ _ Sicheng: omg feeding him <3<3<3 you’re so smooth wow _ _  
_ _ Sicheng: i ship it  _ 😍

Xuxi left them on read.

//

Xuxi knew just where to take Yangyang. They were the same places that Sicheng took him when he first arrived in Shanghai all those months ago; that meant he already knew some information about everything, and he could just copy Sicheng’s tour guide spiel.

They started at the Shanghai Natural History Museum, arriving just past 9 AM to beat the crowds. Xuxi would have been at his morning dance class anyway, and Yangyang seemed to have limitless energy at the prospect of going out in public. Xuxi thought that a pair of sunglasses would be enough to help him blend in, hiding his unusual eyes from view, but Yangyang had shed them stubbornly before even arriving at the museum, because they made it hard for him to see clearly. A couple kids waiting in line for tickets asked if they could take his picture, but Xuxi figured well enough that most people just mistook him for a freaky goth kid with brightly colored contacts.

Inside the museum, Yangyang was all business— he held tight to Xuxi’s hand, making it feel minimally like a date, but the barrage of questions just kept coming. Were dinosaurs really this big? Why did dolphins have lungs if they lived in the ocean? Wait, wolves were domesticated into the dogs that people kept as pets? Could they see a dog in real life, that very day? (Xuxi vowed to keep an eye out for one.) They did go into the museum theater, where they sat in the back row and snuck a few kisses while the kids in the chairs around them screamed at 3-D dinosaurs.

Afterwards, they had lunch in a nice Thai restaurant nearby— Xuxi ordered multiple appetizers to split, mostly for the sake of Yangyang’s curiosity, along with sweet Thai iced coffee to combat the heat of the dishes. Yangyang pestered him about where they would go next - it seemed like a compulsion - and pouted when Xuxi refused to tell him.

The look of awe on his face when they arrived at the Yu Garden made it worthwhile, though. Xuxi thought he might like this destination the best of all, and judging by the hours they spent wandering there, he was correct. Yangyang wanted to examine every plant and flower (Xuxi had to remind him a few times not to use his telekinesis in public), and every koi pond warranted a break so that he could watch. “I want to store this all for later,” he said simply, peering up at Xuxi with a small smile as he crouched by a pond’s edge.

“Store it all? Do you have photographic memory or something?”

Yangyang blinked in apparent confusion. “You don’t remember everything you see?”

“Not… not exactly. Not always. Humans only remember the important things, generally…” Xuxi admitted, crouching beside him. The koi fish swam languidly, sometimes darting up to the top of the water for a bit of food; he had to admit, it was sort of mesmerizing. “Yangyang, you’re really lucky! I wish I could remember everything. You’re incredible, you know that?”

Yangyang shrugged half-heartedly. It was obvious that he had more to say, but he stayed quiet for a few moments, his bright eyes following the path of one koi. “I’m more comfortable here than I expected,” he said softly, meeting Xuxi’s eyes at last. “I feel proud of the society that I grew up in, but I feel such a connection to Earth culture and the things that you prize. Love. Beauty. The ability to choose emotion over reason. Growing up surrounded by such things? Xuxi, you’re very lucky to me.” He stood straight, stretching his back and legs with a little sigh— if he was proud of where he came from, why did talking about it seem to make him feel so tired? “My kind sees such concepts as marks of humankind’s simplicity. That’s why we don’t have such things. Nothing is beautiful on my planet.”

Nothing but the pursuit of knowledge. Xuxi had gone to a strict high school in Hong Kong, dedicated evenings and weekends to dance practice, and had parents who always demanded that he strive for the best. But even so, they’d encouraged him to dance because he loved it so much. They’d supported his interest in art. Bought him books on film making and special effects, even a nice laptop when he thought that he might like to try animation. Beauty and passion were what his life was built upon, and Yangyang had grown up with none of that. Xuxi straightened up to stand beside him quietly, trying to digest this all, feeling guilty and wishing he hadn’t said anything at all. Yangyang’s pale lips were set in a soft frown.

“Well, that’s strange. Because  _ you’re  _ from your planet, and you’re more beautiful than every flower in this garden.”

A quiet moment hung between them, making Xuxi wonder if he’d overdone it— but then Yangyang grinned, and Xuxi remembered that he really wasn’t lying. Yangyang was right, he was the lucky one, surrounded by all this beauty.

“Xuxi—” Yangyang bit his lip suddenly, hesitant. “If there’s one thing I  _ really _ want to see with you, it’s the ocean. Is there much sunlight left?” He looked up to the sky, eyes seeming a pale and watery lavender in the light.

“There’s enough,” Xuxi confirmed, feeling somber as he picked up walking again and waited for Yangyang’s dainty footsteps to catch up. There was something about the way he said it,  _ while I’m here _ — the moment felt like a first date and a last-wish fulfillment all in one. Bittersweet and morbid. “I thought you landed in the ocean? You know, I’m surprised that nobody has found the remains of your ship.”

_ Please talk. Give me something I can go off of. _

“I didn’t come here on a ship. You have a lot of faith in my people if you think that’s possible,” Yangyang answered, perceivably cold in his tone as he walked on ahead. When Xuxi went to bite back—  _ You’ll hardly tell me anything, so what should I think? _ — he found his voice blocked by a gentle pressure, like an invisible hand against his mouth. A little surge of panic pierced Xuxi’s chest, and he reached up to touch his lips; the movement made Yangyang glance back with a sort of half-smile.  _ He’s doing this. What a brat.  _ “I  _ did _ land in the ocean, but I didn’t get to appreciate it. Besides, I want to kiss you on the beach.”

The pressure left Xuxi’s mouth, and he breathed a little sigh of relief. Anxiety still bubbled in his stomach, his mind still grappled with a way to tell Yangyang how worried he was— but thinking about the limited time that there was left, a kiss on the beach sounded heavenly. “Okay,” he agreed softly, cursing his voice for sounding so hollow.

Yangyang’s fingers, cold as death, were swallowed up by Xuxi’s much larger hand; Xuxi gave them a squeeze and tried to will his own warmth into them.

//

Yangyang, true to his nature, was fascinated by everything as they boarded the train to Jinshan. He was enthralled by the process of Xuxi swiping his transit card, enchanted by the small children seated across the aisle from them. As the landscape out the window went from urban to rural, however, he quieted and leaned his head against the glass to enjoy the view.

Evening was approaching when they made it to the oceanside, and the temperature was beginning to drop off. A few families were cooking dinner on charcoal grills, and a young couple waded in the water along the buoy’s rope— it was hard not to watch them with envy, as much as Xuxi tried not to.

“The beach here is small, and you can’t really swim. I hope it’s not too much of a disappointment.” The beach seemed smaller than he remembered from his childhood adventures, but the water was still blue and beautiful. The way the sun bounced off the waves made him think of Yangyang with his bright, dancing light. The pale, slight creature beside him hardly seemed the same.

“It’s not! It’s amazing! I’ve never seen so much water in one place,” Yangyang remarked. He slipped off his shoes in a flash, without even untying them, and hurried ahead to the water’s edge, leaving Xuxi almost no choice but to take off his own shoes and join him. There was no fear in the way that he stepped into the water’s path, letting the waves lap at his toes, but he waited until he had Xuxi’s hand in his own to go any further.

“There’s nothing like this where you’re from, is there?” Xuxi didn’t expect an answer, so he wasn’t surprised when Yangyang merely shrugged in response. “Listen… I know you don’t want to talk. I can understand that. But— Yangyang, why?  _ Why _ won’t you let me help?” He stopped, waited. Silence. “Don’t you want more nights like this one? You can stay with us for as long as you like, but… I’m worried you’re going to starve before I can bring you out and show you the ocean again.”

“Didn’t you say it yourself? A human scientist would almost certainly cut me up and take me apart. Starving is not easy, but it is at least peaceful.”

Xuxi sighed. He knew it to be true, and yet it still made his chest feel heavy, hearing Yangyang say it. “Then help me contact your planet. Your asteroid. Let’s send you back to where you belong. Okay?”

When Yangyang’s eyes snapped onto him, their pale depths were cold and clouded with frustration— it made Xuxi feel a wave of irrational guilt. It might have been for Yangyang’s own good, but he still got the sense that he was pressing on an open wound, every time he brought it up. A child ran by behind them, nearly tripping in the sand, and Yangyang instinctively moved closer to Xuxi. His whole body was cold from the evening wind, and Xuxi trembled.

“I don’t belong there or anywhere,” Yangyang replied firmly, though it was clear that he was tired, that his resolve was breaking down. “Follow me. This way,” he instructed softly, tugging Xuxi by his arm to the less populated end of the beach. The blue sky held the first dregs of evening gray— and one star, one lone visible star. Xuxi made himself focus on it (and on keeping his big mouth shut), waiting patiently for Yangyang to say whatever it was he needed to say.

“I don’t belong there or anywhere,” Yangyang repeated again, quiet and resigned, a soft sigh. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and then he went on, “I’m here in exile. My research is being continued by someone else, like nothing happened. We don’t kill, but my kind does not shy away from making the resistance disappear.”

_ He can’t go back. _ The realization made Xuxi feel cold, and he had to resist the urge to let go of Yangyang’s hand, just step back and  _ breathe _ . He had argued so hard for Yangyang to tell him everything, not wanting to think about how difficult it would be to hear. Against all instinct, he squeezed Yangyang’s tiny hand in his own.

“I’m sorry, Yangyang… I didn’t mean to make things hard.”

_ “You _ didn’t make things hard,” Yangyang replied softly, though the way his eyes remained carefully fixed on the water made that hard to believe. “It was  _ them _ . They gave me the job of learning everything that I could about humankind, and then they told me that my infatuation with your species was  _ irrational. _ ” He moved closer, suddenly hugging tight to Xuxi’s arm as he confessed, “I was the head of a project aiming to unlock the secrets of human language, dissecting the brains of various test subjects. You can see how successful we were. My Mandarin is dictionary-perfect, along with eleven other languages, based on the—  _ availability _ of human samples.” There was no pride behind his voice as he spoke of his accomplishments, only regret as he murmured, “Why would we learn human language if we were never meant to cooperate with them? My superiors only wanted to keep expanding our wealth of knowledge, but I wanted to make contact with Earth. I fought for it. I wanted to see the land that I was falling in love with.” His brows furrowed, and for the first time, the beginnings of tears formed in the corners of his eyes— sparkling brilliantly, as though kissed with glitter. “I was exiled, banished into space in a sealed pod meant to collide with a meteor. I nearly did. Altering my trajectory pushed the limits of my psychic endurance. It’s miraculous that I’ve made it here to Earth… but I don't know how long I'll last. I don't know how long it takes my kind to starve. Such a case has never been documented. So I'm trying to enjoy the moments that I have."

The sounds of happy families calling and splashing around them seemed miles away. Nothing mattered but Yangyang, Xuxi, and the stars. They were nothing spectacular at such an early hour, but they gave him something to focus on. He hadn’t wanted to tell any outside authorities about Yangyang, he didn’t want to think about his new friend behind the glass in a lab, but that was when he thought Yangyang would leave safely for home someday— 

“You’re stiff,” Yangyang pointed out with an obvious tinge of frustration, grip going slack on Xuxi’s arm. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. It doesn’t feel like a date anymore. I want that feeling back.”

“I’m— sorry.” Xuxi tried to shake off the cold feeling of dread, closing his eyes for a moment before wrapping an arm around Yangyang’s shoulders and kissing him atop his head. If he was still stiff, Yangyang didn’t mention it; he was cold to the touch, but he wrapped his arms around Xuxi like he was waiting to absorb him and become one body. “It’s a beautiful night. Yangyang— you know, this is a memory I’m never gonna lose. I’ll keep this with me no matter what.” His voice was choked, and he had to awkwardly clear his throat, fighting his urge to simply cry.

“Me too,” Yangyang replied redundantly, his head resting on Xuxi’s shoulder as they turned towards the direction of the sunset. The sky was starting to glimmer with gold, and Xuxi didn’t want Yangyang to miss it - he wasn’t going to talk anymore and spoil the moment, but then Yangyang (to no surprise) thought of another question.

“How long does it take a human to fall in love?”

A flush spread from under Xuxi’s t-shirt collar, despite the mild evening temperature, and he grappled for a moment with exactly what to say. Once again, Yangyang had produced an answerless question. “It depends,” he said at last, voice surprisingly smooth despite wanting to flop back into the water and hide to escape the awkwardness. “It’s probably different for everyone, but when it happens, I think you just know.”

When Xuxi dared a glance at Yangyang, his pale lips were turned into a little smile. The light from the sky and the water lit him up, and he rested a gentle hand on Xuxi’s chest, as if to feel his heartbeat. “Oh. Okay,” he said simply.

At last, they went silent and listened to the waves.

//

When they arrived home later that night, after dinner and a leisurely walk home, even Yangyang was contentedly quiet— but an odd tension crackled between them that Xuxi could feel. Dejun and Sicheng were engrossed in the premiere of some new drama, but surprisingly, Yangyang snuck by without a second glance and stuck close to Xuxi on the way to his bedroom.  _ Why not? Why not let him experience this too? _ Xuxi made space for him in the bed, pulled him in close and enveloped him in his warm arms, and that’s how they fell asleep.

Xuxi’s alarm went off at six AM, the same as always, except this time, Yangyang was there to groan in unison and jam his head under the pillow. His cold had disappeared, his body kept warm by Xuxi’s all night and glowing vaguely pink with the heat, but his face was devoid of color in the early morning light.

“I hate the way humans have to wake up. It’s so… unpleasant.”

“I’m hard to wake up. It doesn’t happen any other way.” Xuxi brushed the black hair from Yangyang’s forehead, discreetly checking his temperature. Warm had to be good, right? “You can sleep more. I’m going on a run, and then I have to go to class today. I’ll bring you home some more books this afternoon?”

“That’s fine,” Yangyang mumbled offhandedly, though Xuxi wasn’t entirely sure if he’d comprehended anything. “I’ll make you coffee for when you get back. I want to be awake when you’re awake.” He turned over in Xuxi’s arms to face him, sleepy eyes half-lidded and blurry, and he kissed him like he couldn’t help himself.

Xuxi wished that Yangyang’s kisses didn’t make him feel so warm and comfortable and at peace. He really did.

While Xuxi pulled on his running clothes and found his headphones, Yangyang slipped into the kitchen to start the coffee. When Xuxi emerged from the room ready to go, he found Yangyang chopping up fresh fruit to go with breakfast— apples and grapes and lychee, just as Xuxi had showed him. But his hands had a quiver that they hadn’t had before, and Xuxi bit his lip. “You don’t have to do this all for me,” he interrupted, trying his best to sound firm.  _ People who are dating take care of each other. If he were my boyfriend, I’d send him back to bed and make breakfast for him. _ The thought made his stomach knot up, but before he could vocalize it, Yangyang was shaking his head.

“I want to,” he said simply, abandoning his task for a moment so that he could reach up and adjust the sweatband around Xuxi’s head. His hands were once again cold to the touch, his pleasant heat dissipated after just a few minutes out of bed. His face was plainly tired, but he still found the energy to smile as he traced Xuxi’s cheekbone with his thumb. “Because I love you.”

Yangyang didn’t seem to notice the way that Xuxi’s breath faltered, the silence that hung between them and cut deep. He hummed quietly as he went back to working on breakfast, and when Xuxi didn’t move, he popped up onto his toes to kiss him on the cheek. “Hurry and go before the sun gets too warm!”

Xuxi usually jogged and paced himself, but this time, he made his legs work as fast as he could to propel himself down the barren sidewalk at a sprint. Runner’s high, they called it, the feeling of bliss that came from pure adrenaline— Xuxi sought it out blindly, but attained only burning lungs and cramping muscles. When he finally had to stop and catch his breath, blocks from home, he keeled over with his hands on his knees, gasping and coughing while tears stung his eyes.

Xuxi had never met a man special enough for him to cry over. In one corner of his mind, he thought it bizarre, that he was suddenly so attached to someone he barely knew. But despite that, his heart ached sharply and his stomach churned and he wondered what it would be like to feel pure love without the inevitability of an  _ end _ .

//

**“Roommates” Group Chat**

_ Xuxi: is anyone home?? what’s yangyang doing?? _ _  
_ _ Sicheng: he’s out cold in your bed _ _  
_ _ Sicheng: fuck, he feels like ice. xuxi, i think you have to do something… _ _  
_ _ Xuxi: i know. i’m trying to figure something out. _ __  
_ Dejun: would calling a lab really be so bad? _ _  
_ __ Xuxi: i’m not sure yet. can’t talk, in class. be home soon.

//

Xuxi stayed in class until the end, but it took everything he had in him to do so. He was sure that his professor could see him sneaking looks at his phone, his fingers tapping on the table, but he said nothing; as soon as they were dismissed, Xuxi was the first person out of the room, running for the bus stop.

_ He eats stars, that’s what he said. Hydrogen and helium. He needs hydrogen and helium.  _ It sounded simple enough. Xuxi had bought helium balloons plenty of times as a child in Hong Kong, inhaled the gas inside to make his voice squeak like a cartoon character. And hydrogen— hydrogen was in the atmosphere all around them, Xuxi knew. How hard could it be to get? His fingers tapped quickly on his phone screen, navigating through pages of search results, but he was still scrolling by the time he arrived home. Apparently, buying tanks of compressed gas was no easy task for a broke college student.

Leaning back against the kitchen counter, Xuxi chewed on his bottom lip, index finger hovering over the search bar. What would Dejun even have him  _ search _ , anyway?  _ Extraterrestrial research labs near me? _

“Xuxi?”

Xuxi was startled by the sound of a weak call through the wall, nearly inaudible. Yangyang sounded unlike himself, no longer with his even, precise pronunciation. The quiver in his voice was unmistakably pain, and it made Xuxi’s stomach drop. At once, he hurried to the closed door and threw it open, looking into the dark.

“Yangyang, I’m trying to figure out how to help you, I promise, I  _ swear— _ ”

Yangyang’s eyes were pale and bloodshot, and it seemed to take a moment before he could focus on the man in front of him. “I— I can feel you when you’re close,” Yangyang managed, anything above a whisper seeming to strain him. “I tried to pull your phone out of your hand, to get your attention, but I— can’t anymore.”

Xuxi felt himself shaking as he sat on the edge of the bed - he couldn’t help it. His fingertips ran over Yangyang’s cold forehead, dancing along his hairline. The weaker he became, the more painful it was to even look at him.

“I’m trying to figure out where to get hydrogen and helium, but I don’t think that I can.”

“You don’t have to,” Yangyang’s answer was immediate and firm, despite his weakened state, and it made Xuxi’s throat tighten with apprehension. “I’m okay like this, I think…”

“You’re not okay! You’re weaker every time I see you,” Xuxi protested, slipping naturally into the space beside Yangyang and pressing their bodies together. Cliché as it was, their bodies felt perfect side by side, especially when Yangyang snuggled close and threw his arm over Xuxi’s hip. “Yangyang, the closer I get to losing you, the less options we seem to have, and— and I’m thinking that maybe it would be better to just call someone. There has to be a lab in the city—”

“You said no labs,” Yangyang reminded him softly, shaking his head with surprising conviction. “You said it yourself— who knows what they’d do? I’m a scientist myself. I know what information can be taken from a dissected brain. It’s a gold mine.”

“Probably not as much information as they’d get from your brain  _ intact _ ,” Xuxi ventured a guess. It was the one ace card that they probably had; on first instinct, a researcher might want to dissect a completely new species like Yangyang, but Xuxi knew that their knowledge of the universe was nothing compared to Yangyang’s.  _ Who knows what he knows? _ “We need to convince them of that, but I don’t think it will be hard. You convinced me in just a few days.” When Yangyang’s eyes closed and didn’t move to open again, Xuxi sighed in an inevitable pulse of frustration. “If we don’t do anything, there’s a 100% chance that you’ll die here in my bed, and that will be the end. Of  _ everything _ . Your species don’t believe in an afterlife, I would imagine.”

“There is no evidence pointing towards the existence of an afterlife, no.”

“So  _ think _ ,” Xuxi urged softly. “There’s a chance that this will end badly, with your death, but— your chances are  _ better _ . There’s a chance that you’ll get to expand your knowledge even further. You’ll be the most knowledgeable of your  _ whole _ species when it comes to humankind.”

“I already am.”

“You— you said you loved me,” Xuxi pressed on, ignoring the feeling that his own voice was about to break. “And there’s a chance that we could see where that love goes between us. That’s uncharted territory for you, isn’t it? Maybe… maybe you’re the first of your kind to fall in love, and to  _ be loved _ , by a human.”

Xuxi was sure he didn’t imagine it, the way Yangyang’s arm tightened around his waist.

“Are you happy, just letting yourself die without knowing? Because I  _ really  _ want to know.”

“You love me?” Yangyang’s voice wavered like his throat had gone tight; the sound snagged into Xuxi’s heartstrings and yanked  _ hard _ .

“I’ve never felt this for anyone else before. I don’t have anything to compare it to. I could love you, but if you go away, I’ll never know.”

“But they might take me away, and I might never see you again.”

Xuxi squeezed Yangyang back, as tight as he dared, trying to keep him warm. “You might,” he agreed softly. As hard as it was to say, it was impossible to lie. All he could do was hope that he’d made a rational case, that Yangyang would be willing to take a chance on the numbers falling in their favor. He pressed his lips lovingly to Yangyang’s forehead, eyes closed, and waited.

When Yangyang’s shoulders trembled in his grip, Xuxi felt his heart sink— but then Yangyang spoke up, voice shaking, and coaxed out a broken laugh from his lover: “I’m crying. Amazing. I didn’t think that changing my appearance would replicate human body systems, but I really did outdo myself…” He gasped softly, breath trying to catch up with his sobs. “It feels amazing. I’ve never felt anything like this…” He pressed his face for a moment into Xuxi’s chest, as though breathing him in. “Okay. I’ll do it, if you think we have a chance. You know humans best, so— I trust you. But since it’s still just a  _ chance _ — there’s something I want first. Something I want to make sure I don’t miss out on.”

At once, the weight on Xuxi’s chest felt like it was lessened.  _ We have a chance. Maybe a slim chance, but we have a chance that this doesn’t have to end. _ “What is that?” he asked without thought, because he would have let Yangyang experience  _ anything _ to give him what he needed.

“Just in case they take me away from you, somehow—” Yangyang hesitated, pressing his lips against Xuxi’s firmly and eagerly, kissing him hard enough for long enough to leave his lips glowing vaguely pink from the heat when he pulled away. “—Xuxi, I want to make love.”

The heat that sprung to Xuxi’s cheeks made Yangyang feel all the colder; the alien giggled softly as he noticed the rush of color, biting his own flushed bottom lip. “You’re weak,” Xuxi stammered instinctively— trying to think of Yangyang’s tired body, and not the tingle of desire that seeded itself in his chest. “It might hurt you or something!”

“I’m not  _ that _ weak. Have some faith in me!” Yangyang pouted. He sure had learned to use his assets, and Xuxi was amazed that he could utilize aegyo at such a critical moment. “According to the literature I’ve consulted, the average time of human intercourse is 5.4 minutes. Surely I have enough energy in me for that.”

“You’re so—”

“Stubborn. Yes,” Yangyang chuckled softly, and he really did have a renewed energy about him as he pressed a bold kiss to Xuxi’s neck. “I’m not normally this bad. I think love must make me this way. Why don’t you hold me for awhile first and warm me up?”

Xuxi sighed happily, claimed by a shiver that touched every last nerve ending. There was something about the word  _ love _ that he adored on Yangyang’s lips, something that made him just want to kiss and kiss and never stop.

//

“Fascinating, isn’t it?”

“You’re  _ unbelievable. _ ”

Hazy with his post-orgasm high (he'd given Yangyang better than some lousy 5.4 minutes, too), Xuxi could barely form a complete thought, but it didn’t surprise him that Yangyang’s superbrain wasn’t slowed down in the least. And he had to admit, it  _ was _ pretty amazing. Yangyang had left the bed almost immediately after they’d finished to look at his body in the mirror, or more accurately, the pulsating pink glow that seemed to be left by Xuxi’s lips on his skin. The light was at its most brilliant on Yangyang’s own lips, on his neck and collarbones, but the color had flooded through him and left every inch of him warm and flushed and beautiful.

“Why is this happening, anyway? Sex usually  _ drains _ energy. You hardly seem sleepy?” Xuxi inquired, running his fingertips across Yangyang’s chest.  _ Pulsing. Do aliens have heartbeats? _ The rest of his body systems seemed to work well enough, Xuxi had observed, and he went pink himself at the thought.

“Truly? I have no idea,” Yangyang admitted, in what had to be an absolute first. “To our knowledge, only the energy of the stars can sustain us, but— maybe there are other types of energy we’ve never utilized. After all, my species doesn’t make love. We’re missing out.” He rolled closer to Xuxi, bare skin smooth and warm against bare skin, and kissed his shoulder. “I feel better than I have in days. We don’t have to call just yet, right? Can we just… lay here and enjoy this?”

“Of course. Post-sex time is sacred. I wouldn’t want to give up the chance to hold you,” Xuxi insisted softly. Sure, he knew it might be the last time, but it would be a  _ damn _ good first and last.

Luckily, Yangyang had more of a sense of optimism— with a wicked little laugh, he kissed Xuxi’s earlobe and whispered, “We’ll need to do this again once I’m properly fed, and see what kind of light show we can create.”

“Mm.” Xuxi hummed softly in assent, unable to keep from chuckling.  _ But I want to stay in this moment for as long as I can. _ Xuxi tuned into Yangyang’s soft, even breaths and the pulsing rhythm of his light, beautiful light all over everything.

//

“Photo ID, please.”

It was just protocol, Xuxi knew; the guard who manned the lab’s highest security wing was a young female with a now familiar face, and she gave Xuxi a smile of recognition. Xuxi passed her his ID, traded for the tiny fingerprint scanner that he knew to press each index finger against. An affirmative  _ beep _ came in response, and he slipped his ID back into his wallet.

Next, he passed his bag across the desk for a compulsory check— of course, Xuxi had no need to smuggle weapons anywhere, and the bag was full of nothing but shaved steak, vegetables, and condiments.

“What is it tonight, Mr. Huang?” the guard asked with another little smile, slipping his things delicately back in order.

“He wanted to try hot pot. He saw it in a drama,” Xuxi answered with a shrug, awkward as usual. He’d probably never get used to everyone knowing him as the  _ alien’s boyfriend _ , but it was still enough of a shock that their relationship was going strong— he wouldn’t sweat the little things.

“I hope you enjoy yourselves,” she commented, turning her back to enter in the security code and open the locked wing.

Xuxi followed along closely, past windowless lab doors, nothing but an innocuous number on each door. It was only from experience that he knew Yangyang was in lab 120— the suite, they’d come to call it, since it’d been fixed up into a living space. A second code opened the door, and as the guard held it open for him, Xuxi caught sight of the first sign of a home: the mat just inside the door holding Yangyang’s lonely pair of shoes.

“Xuxi!” Yangyang called his name in greeting, but there was no need— it was impossible to miss him when he lit up half the room with his own luminescence. They’d done well to make the simple space comfortable, though Yangyang didn’t ask for much— mainly just books, shelves and  _ shelves _ of them, but Yangyang had also developed a taste for music of all kinds, and his CD collection was looking more impressive with every visit. In the corner of the makeshift living room were the often-replenished canisters of helium and hydrogen that Yangyang needed to live. With a constant supply of energy, Yangyang’s skin glowed so brightly that it was nearly white, and his eyes glimmered with strands of hypnotizing gold. “Guess what? I harassed the guards and we’ve been approved for a date this weekend! We can’t leave the grounds, but we can have a picnic out under the stars! And they said we could have access to one of the telescopes. I’m going to see if I can find my home asteroid and show it to you! Doesn’t that sound amazing?” Yangyang embraced him in greeting, punctuating himself with an eager kiss on the cheek.

“It sounds perfect. I was hoping that they wouldn’t try to keep you from the stars,” Xuxi admitted with a sigh of relief. As far as he could tell, the research staff were just as charmed by Yangyang’s innocence and wit as Xuxi had been

“They wouldn’t dare. They know I can set things on fire. Explosive things, like hydrogen tanks.” Yangyang smiled affectionately (Xuxi wanted to think his boyfriend was joking, but really, it was always so hard to tell!). “You’ll supply the food, right? I want something tasty—  _ baozi _ with red bean paste? And beer!”

“Anything you want. Anything and everything,” Xuxi promised with a little laugh. At first, it had been a matter of wanting Yangyang to experience everything that he could; now, weeks later, Xuxi could finally admit to himself that he just plain  _ liked _ spoiling Yangyang as much as he could. “Tonight, I thought you might enjoy making hot pot. Everything’s all sliced already, we just need to cook the broth— and Sicheng sent another of his favorite dramas with me again.” He flashed the USB stick on his keyring, loaded up with all the episodes. “He said you’ll  _ love _ Secret of the Three Kingdoms.”

“I’d love anything you brought for me. I just love having you here,” Yangyang admitted, popping up on his toes and rubbing his nose lovingly against Xuxi’s.

“I love  _ you _ .” Xuxi’s voice shook, just a little, but never had he been more sure of himself, and he smiled as Yangyang sighed in contentment. “I really can’t wait for this weekend. It’s still a little— strange, isn’t it? Being stuck in here all the time?”

“Oh, I’m hardly  _ stuck _ . I’d never allow it.” Yangyang smirked. “Start getting dinner ready. I’m going to open a window. I’d like to see the stars tonight.” Before Xuxi could ask what in the  _ world _ Yangyang was planning, the alien had thrown back the living room blinds with nothing but the power of his mind. The high-security bars on the window bent like rubber, the window latch flew open effortlessly, and suddenly the stuffy little lab had a nice evening breeze cutting through it. From Yangyang’s lack of hesitance, it was clear that he’d done this before— and clear that the high security lab really was just a formality. “Let them think that I’m stuck, though, if it makes them comfortable. Let them give me a hundred thousand brain scans and memory tests, I don’t care. As long as I can see you, I’ll stay put wherever they want me!”

"You don't miss home, then?"

Yangyang smiled, tugging Xuxi in close (with a little psychic  _ push _ that made Xuxi feel fuzzy with just how much his boyfriend had missed him) and hugging him tight, face buried in Xuxi's sweater, right at shoulder height. "What are you talking about? This is home," Yangyang murmured simply, and the warmth in his voice lit up Xuxi's heart like the stars.


End file.
